


Snog, Marry, Avoid.

by ravenpuff1956



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Secret Crush, Slow Dancing, they'll get there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21753040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenpuff1956/pseuds/ravenpuff1956
Summary: Natasha and Clint play a game.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Betty Ross, Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Laura Barton
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Snog, Marry, Avoid.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is my first fic in this fandom. I've always liked Bruce/Nat ever since i saw AoU, and I recently just got obsessed again and I thought- what the heck let's write a fic!  
> I hope everyone likes it!
> 
> Sorry if I get any information wrong.  
> I've set this a bit after the first movie.

“Is there anymore champagne,” Clint asks, half his head dangling out of the balconies bars. Natasha fills up his glass instead of answering. They’ve almost made their way through the bottle. Probably not the best thing seeing as they’re on duty. 

“All clear?” She asks, surveying the party below them. 

It’s something SHEILD set up, an advertisement if you like, planned to bring more impressive scientists into their labs. Apparently they need more of the terrifying creatures. Her and Clint are on patrol, making sure there’s no accidental murders or kidnappings. Overwhelming knowledge of science and how to use it is often too tempting for the worlds evil masterminds. 

Nat’s not too worried though; all of the team is here. Her and Clint; obviously. Tony, naturally centre stage. Thor, because there’s an open bar and he has a bet with his brother. Steve because he didn’t want to be left out. And Bruce, who’s almost as famous as Stark at this shindig. Nat smiles down at the babbling scientist. It’s clear by the way he’s twisting his hands together, he’s not comfortable with the amount of people crushed around him. But by the smile on his face, she knows that he’s pleased all the same.  
As if he felt her thinking of him, Bruce’s eyes flicker up to the little nest they’ve made above them. Natasha’s face flushes at being caught snooping. She doesn’t lose his eye-contact however, and instead flashes him a suggestive grin. Bruce abruptly faces his audience again and Nat’s left smug in the knowledge that although she must look a little warm, he looks like a tomato. 

“All clear,” Clint concurs, “And I’ve got a great idea for another one,” Nat rips her eyes away from where she was watching Bruce talk with his hands. They spread out wide, firmly and with the purpose they hardly ever have in his human form. 

Clint is rubbing his own hands together, his eyes glinting with mischief. 

“Hit me,” Natasha grins like the Cheshire cat. 

“Snog, Marry, Avoid…” Clint begins enthusiastically, “the guy in the pin-striped suit, the girl with the extraordinary long legs,” 

“You’re married,” Nat breaks into his love struck monologue, tongue in cheek. 

“Don’t tell Laura,” Clint says completely straight faced. She punches him hard on the shoulder and his lips wobble for a moment before he breaks out into laughter. 

“Okay, okay, the girl with the longer than what is usually humanly possible legs, and,” Clint pauses for dramatic effect, “That lofty fellow leaning against the bar,” 

Nat nibbles on the back of her thumb as she takes in her choices. ‘Not bad Barton,’ She hums, clicking over her choices. Clint nods, taking a leisured sip from his champagne flute. 

“Got it,” Natasha finally claps her hands together. 

“Let’s hear it then,” Clint replies devilishly. 

“Marry the lofty dude at the bar,” Nat says easily, “He’s clearly rich by the look of his watch, and he’s clearly got some connections based on how many people have approached him, not the other way round,” 

“Snog the lady with the legs,” Nat continues, raising one eyebrow coyly, “You’re quite right Barton, they are fantastic,” 

“And avoid the pin stripe guy?” Clint finishes for her, with a wide grin. 

“Yep,” Nat says curtly, shooting the man in question daggers, “He’s groped at least half a dozen women since he’s arrived here, the sleaze,” She runs a fingers over the knife she’s got carefully hidden in her shoe. Clint feigns shooting him with an arrow, falling backwards on the ground for dramatic effect. 

“I thought scientists were supposed to be nicer than most people,” Natasha sighs disparagingly, from where she's crossed legged on the floor.

“Have you met Tony?” Clint asks her incredulously. 

“Bruce is nice,” Natasha retorts immediately, her eyes flicking back to their disheveled teammate. A smile finds its way onto her face. He’s wearing a suit that looks like it hasn’t been pressed since 1997. It’s a nice colour on him though; the plum that he favours. It brings out the colour of his skin; the colour of his eyes. 

“Until he goes all ‘Bang bang, smash smash,” Clint mutters drily. Natasha pushes him harder than she normally would have. 

“Shut up,” She snaps, “He can’t help it,” Natasha will never forget how he glanced at her in the SHEILD’s helicarrier; a look of pure fear. Not for himself. But for her. Nat’s heart still patters when she thinks of it; a rush of adrenaline that makes her toes curl. She turns to find Clint staring at her with an unusual expression on his face. Like he knows something she doesn’t. 

“I’ve got another one,” Clint says knowingly. 

“What?” Nat cries out in unfairness, “You just went,” 

“It’s a good one,” Clint waves her outburst away easily, “You’ll love it,” Nat rolls her eyes, but relents, giving him her attention. 

“Snog, Marry, Avoid,” Clint says, the edges of his mouth turned up in a playful smile, “Thor, Tony, Steve and Banner,” Natasha chokes on her sip of champagne. 

“The team?” She splutters. That was the last thing she thought he was going to say, “But there’s four of them,”

“You can double up on one,” Clint rests his elbows on his knees. He looks intensely interested in what she has to say. Nat bites down on her bottom lip, deep in thought. For some reason she wants to prove him wrong. But about what? 

“Avoid Thor,” Nat begins slowly. Clint nods if he were expecting this answer, beckoning her to continue. 

“Snog Steve,” Nat smiles to herself. ‘He probably needs the practice,’ Hawkeye chuckles under his breath. They both eye off the straight laced solider downstairs. 

“He’d probably reject your amorous advances, but okay,” Clint sniggers. 

“Avoid Tony,” Nat continues. He has a lot of money, but she just couldn’t survive being married to him for more than 24 hours. (And she has too much love and respect for Pepper to pick snog). 

“And, ah, marry Bruce, I guess,” Nat finishes with a slight cough. Why does her chest feel so tingly saying that sentence? Clint looks too amused for comfort. 

“But just like one of those marriages where nothing sexual happens right?” Her best friend says, sounding awfully like a middle-schooler, “A friendship marriage,” Clint’s face is carefully blank, but his brown eyes are far too innocent where they trail downstairs to where the scientist stands. 

Bruce has spilt his beer on his shirt, clearly by accident if his blush has anything to say about it. Natasha watches, caught, as he presses his thumb up to his lips. There’s a flicker of pink, before he hastily wipes the wet patch. Nat bites the inside of her cheek. She wonders if Bruce would jump away if she pressed her thumb to his lips. Or would he kiss it? Then her lips. Then her shoulder. Preferably bare shoulder.

“We could do sexual,” Nat murmurs dimly under her breath. 

“I knew it!” Clint cries out, punching the air in jubilation, “You like Banner!”

“I do not,” Natasha brushes his deduction away a bit too defensively. The crowds have mostly subsided around him now that the buffet table is open for business. Everyone except one woman. A pretty lady, close to Bruce’s age. With long raven black hair that almost falls to her waist, and a practical yet stylish manner of dress. She laughs at something Bruce says, flicking her hair over one shoulder. They seem very familiar. Extremely familiar in fact. Bruce is smiling. A real smile, not those adorable half ones he does. Nat strains her neck to get a better a look as they wander off together. The woman’s hand is wound around Bruce’s arm. He’s not pulling away. He never doesn’t pull away. Nat bites down on her bottom lip, forcefully ignoring the sudden swooping sensation in her stomach. 

“Yes, you bloody well do Nat,” Clint argues back, finishing off his glass with a flourish. 

She ignores his rapid fire prodding to watch Steve practically carry an extremely precarious looking Tony up to their hiding spot. 

“I’m going to kill you,” Nat hisses at Clint who is currently rattling off a bunch of baby names. He shuts up immediately, but there’s a glint in his eye and she knows she hasn’t heard the last of this subject. She might really have to murder him. 

“Guys, guys, guys,” A tipsy Tony dances up the stairs to join them, a double neat whiskey held fast in his hand, “You’ll never bloody guess,”

“Shut up Tony,” Steve orders his teammate firmly, tugging at his collar awkwardly, “It’s none of our business,”

“What’s none of our business?” Nat asks conversationally. Once a spy, always a spy and she can’t deny she thrives on gossip. 

“Nothing,” Steve says quickly, putting a hand over Tony’s mouth. The business man’s voice is a mere babble over the soldier’s tight grip. 

“Do you know any sign language?” Clint asks Tony, sounding intrigued. Tony casually flips Steve the bird and Natasha snorts. 

“Come on Cap, don’t be a spoil sport,” She teases him, “Let the man speak,” Steve looks unsure, but Tony makes the decision for him by licking his palm. Steve immediately lets him go with a disgusted yelp, and Tony giggles mercilessly. 

“Where’s Thor when I need him,” Steve grumbles wiping his hand on his pants, looking angrily down at where the god is currently teaching some elderly men some old Asgardian drinking songs. 

“Can I talk now?” Tony asks impatiently. Nat and Clint chorus 'yes' like school children. 

“See that woman Bruce is talking to, down at the bar,” Tony motions to where the two are currently clinking glasses. Nat is the first one to look away, “That’s Betty Ross, and at one point in time, they were going to marry,” The air leaves Natasha’s lungs. She always believed Bruce’s life had been loveless, much like hers has been. But looking down at where Bruce chuckles into his glass at a joke this Betty has made, Nat realises how childish that was. She’s always been a monster. Bruce, at a time, was just a man. 

“What happened? Why didn’t they…” Natasha can’t bring herself to say it. Why are the words stuck in her throat? It’s just marriage after all. Bruce being married…

“What do you think happened,” Tony replies, his tone suddenly dark. They all exchange knowing looks- the Hulk. Although, Natasha can’t help but sneaking glances down at the enwrapped pair, Betty doesn’t seem a hint afraid and touches him freely. ‘More freely than I ever did when I first met him,’ Nat thinks dejectedly, 'I didn't want to touch him at all,'

“It was her father’s fault apparently, a right bastard,” Tony says spitefully, especially protective over his best friend. So it wasn’t either of their decision, Natasha realises with a gulp. No wonder they’re so happy to see each other again. 

“He probably pushed her away,” Clint ruminates. Nat doesn’t appreciate the sympathetic look he’s giving her. She doesn’t need sympathy. She needs to drink something harder than champagne. 

“Exactly,” Tony salutes the archer with his glass, “So I propose that we help them get back together,” 

“What? No!” Natasha squeaks, her voice a tad too high. Steve smiles at her proudly. He probably thinks she’s saying it out of respect of Bruce’s feelings. Actually it was involuntary reflex to protect her own. Clint subtly elbows her in the ribs, and Nat looks to her toes feeling worse than ever before. She knows her best friend wouldn’t be angry with her, but she can’t help but feel his small blast of disappointment. She was just the one who was insisting the negatives of her feelings after all. What right does she have to suddenly get all hot under the collar? 

“Come off it Nat, it’ll be fun!” Tony smirks at her discomfort and she shoots him a withering glare. Clint, a softy at heart however, also seems to agree with the opulent genius. He’s smiling and nodding happily; probably wanting another married member of the team to yak with. Now she not only needs a hard drink and also something to shoot. 

“I still think it’s a poor idea,” Steve holds his ground steadfastly. 

“Shame,” Tony sighs, far too over dramatically, “I truly thought you would approve me trying to bring together two people who had lost each other due to no fault of their own,” 

‘Bastard,’ Nat thinks viciously as Steve’s eyes glaze over. He told her tearfully once of the whole sorry business with Peggy after a hard on the grog. Of course he’s going to say yes now. 

“So shall we help our big green buddy get back with his one true love?” Tony finishes his drink in one gulp, smiling widely. The men agree instantly, Steve amiably taking the hard slap Tony lands on his back.

Natasha pours the rest of the champagne dutifully into her glass.  
Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


End file.
